


Everything starts somewhere.

by werepope (quiteparadise)



Series: 2014 Advent Calendar for a Filthy-Minded Athiest [18]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiteparadise/pseuds/werepope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As far as meet-cutes go, it could use some work.</p><p> </p><p>Advent calendar challenge: Snail mail</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything starts somewhere.

**December 17th:**

Zayn dumps his mail on the counter, and in the spread of paper he catches sight of a bright green envelope. He just frowns at it for a moment before pulling it free. He doesn't recognize the sender on the seasonal return address sticker. He almost rips into it before he catches sight of the name through the smooth, careful loops of the handwriting:

_Liam Payne_

Damn.

He's had this problem before, last year, right when he moved. His postman must have been particularly myopic, because Zayn got his upstair neighbor's mail in his box for almost a week, until Zayn finally taped a brightly colored note up just inside the little metal door to inform him, politely, of his mistake.

He'll have to remember to write up another note for tomorrow. Maybe he'll staple a Mars bar or something to this one, in the name of postman appreciation – 'tis the season, after all.

Down the stairs, right below his own flat, he knocks on the door of Liam Payne. A very pretty girl with a mass of curly dark hair answers wearing a mens dress shirt and very little else. He averts his eyes.

"I've gotten some of your mail," he says, holding out the envelope.

"Cheers." She takes it with a fleeting bite of a smile and shuts the door.

 

**December 18th:**

There are three Christmas cards in Zayn's mail and none of them are for him.

He'd forgotten the note for the postman altogether his morning. His mornings are hectic, what with his ability to hit the snooze button in his sleep. He'd forgotten about the whole thing entirely, until he pawed through the mail on his way up the stairs and sees _Liam Payne_.

Well, at least he hadn't made it all the way up to his floor before noticing. He'd be really irritated then. As it is, it's as much his own fault as the postman's. He should have put a note up this morning on his way out the door. That's on him.

So he detours, and he continues to think bolstering, positive thoughts to keep himself from being aggravated, and when he knocks on Liam Payne's door, it's the same girl who answers. She's wearing a sports bra and joggers rolled up around the waist. She looks like a Fly Girl.

Zayn averts his eyes. "I've gotten some of your mail again," he says. He holds out the envelopes.

The girl side-eyes him for a moment before taking them this time. "Funny that."

"Not hardly," Zayn says, and she shuts the door.

 

**December 19th:**

Zayn forgets once again to put a note up in his postbox. There are five Christmas cards for Liam Payne in it. If things continue for much longer, he's going to be due a wage from the Royal Mail.

He uncaps a pen with his teeth and writes on the back of a receipt that he finds in the fold of his wallet: _Liam Payne lives in 2C!_ With a curvy arrow pointing down, toward the appropriate box. He doesn't have any tape hiding out in his wallet, but he manages to wedge it up into the slim join of two pieces of metal, so that it hangs down inside of his box, impossible to overlook.

He carries the Christmas cards up to 2C.

The girl is wearing a grey bathrobe and her hair is dripping on the hardwood. "You again," she says.

"It pains me," he says, and hands over the cards.

She shuts the door rather forcefully.

 

**December 20th:**

He finds his note underneath the stack of Liam Payne's cards. All six of them.

Is this normal? Is it actually normal for a person to get this many fucking Christmas cards? If so, Zayn is doing something wrong. It's enough to make a person question his life choices. He thought he'd been doing pretty well in the friend department. He was doing a lot better than average, in the way of family – he has a whole horde of cousins and aunts and uncles. But he sure as hell isn't swimming in festive holiday envelopes and glittered cardboard Santas.

The girl is wearing gold sequin leggings and an oversized Christmas sweater. Zayn can't avert his eyes quickly enough.

"Going to a party?" he asks.

She snatches the cards from his hand and slams the door.

 

**December 21st:**

Is a Sunday. There is no mail.

 

**December 22nd:**

"You could put them under the door, you know," the girl says.

Zayn drops the stack of nine Christmas cards on the floor at her feet and walks away before she can slam the door again.

"Knobhead," he hears her mutter.

 

**December 23rd:**

Zayn doesn't even count the damn cards. He shoves them two by two under the door, putting plenty of snap in it. He hopes they get stepped on.

He's going to call the post office on Monday and make a complaint. He's also going to buy neon poster board and make a sign so hysterically colorful even his idiot of a postman can't overlook it. He'll glue the damn thing up if he has to. He will not deliver any more mail to Liam Payne or his girlfriend if his life fucking depends on it.

He's worked himself up into a nice little strop when there's a knock at his door. He can't be blamed for yanking it open the way he does, or glaring out at the boy in the hall.

"Hi," he says. "I live downstairs. I think you've been getting my mail?"

_Liam Payne._

He's tallish and broad-shouldered and his mouth is very pink. He smiles bashfully.

"I'm so sorry about that. Thanks so much for bringing it to me. I should have been up sooner to thank you, but I've been out of town."

Zayn cannot look away. "Oh. Oh, no problem."

"No," Liam says, smiling even more. "Really. Thank you. I appreciate it. I hope Danielle wasn't– The way she told me, I think she might have been a bit…"

 _Ungrateful_ , Zayn thinks.

"But. Well. She was flat-sitting for me, you see. And you kept turning up. I think it weirded her out a bit."

"I understand," Zayn says. He did seem to catch her during a couple less than opportune times. Less than fully dressed times, at least. "It's alright. No hard feelings."

"Brilliant." Liam smile takes over his whole face for a moment as he beams. "Oh! Oh, I meant to–" He holds out a bright green envelope. "This is yours. It must have gotten mixed in with mine."

Zayn takes it from him, turning it over to see _Zayn Malik_ written neatly on the front. "Thanks," he says.

Liam grins again, brighter than Danielle's sequin leggings, bright enough to blind. "Not at all," he says.

Now would be the time to shut the door, but Liam doesn't give any indication of wanting him to, so he doesn't.

As far as meet-cutes go, it could use some work.


End file.
